Tracking
Like hitting record and taking a deep breath, I am just trying to get this one right.
Making up your mind, making it all up. Forgetting who you even are.
Pushing the hair to the other side of your skull. You wish, and then wish some more. Pretend to not care, to not hurt every time you do it.
Which path were you on? Do you remember? Do you care? Do you look at the boxcars strewn along the ground, and wish to be one, if only for a little while.
It doesn’t follow you and it won’t. The other people keep going, why can’t you? Does the future scare you?
Me.
I’m me, unfortunately. A shame, but it’s got to be that way. One brain, all the time.
Changing and staying in the same place, like a tree in seasons. A static progression.
It scares me all the time. To uproot, to change. To move forward. I’m causing a pile-up inside me.
I can pile one atop the other, it just feels bad.
Clicking it off. Saying you did it right this time. You won’t regret it. You won’t care what people think of it. I just won’t care this time. It’s me, it’s all me.
Switching to a different track and doing it again, anyways.
Who cares? Me.
